


Binary Stars and Other Mutually Attracted Objects in Orbit

by ReyloTrashCompactor (NextToSomething)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Kylo Ren, Body Hair, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Prompt Fill, Submissive Kylo Ren, That's Not How The Force Works, Tumblr Prompt, jealous!kylo ren, menstrual cramps, pregnant rey, ratings vary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:53:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextToSomething/pseuds/ReyloTrashCompactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles centered on the gravitational pull between Rey and Kylo Ren. Each are standalone unless otherwise noted. Ratings vary, as do genres, length, and seriousness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Rey won’t say his name.

**Author's Note:**

> **Tumblr prompt:** Things you said after it was over.
> 
>  
> 
> **Rated M.**

“You never say my name, Rey.”

She sits on the edge of the narrow bed. She’s wearing his shirt because she doesn’t like being naked with him. He is sprawled, broad and lazy, on the mattress behind her. Proudly naked, laying on top of the rough sheets. 

She thinks he enjoys showing himself to her. He knows her mind, and knows what she thought that first moment she saw his face, all those months ago. He loves baring himself before her, showing her everything. He finds power in his own vulnerability with her.

Her fingers twitch on her thighs, covered by several inches of black fabric, the sleeves of his tunic reaching nearly to her knees. She doesn’t like to show him anything.

“I don’t know your name,” she mumbles into the still air, already mapping her clandestine trek back to her own bed. Why she makes a nightly pilgrimage to the prisoner’s barracks to make confusing love with the man who would crush the galaxy if only it would fit in his hand, she isn’t sure. Some perverse gravitational pull. Some dark side effect of the Force they both know.

“You do know it,” he says with little compunction. “Don’t I bed you well enough to hear you moan it?”

She stands, pulling on her leggings. Wrapping her belt around his shirt so she won’t have to figure out how to put hers on without taking his off. Her movements are jerky and she won’t turn to face him.

“Go to hell,” she snaps. Swiping hair clinging to the quickly cooling sweat on her brow, she finally turns. 

There is so much of him. Yards of white, white skin. Dark patches of hair here and there, with long stretches of muscle she is embarrassed to know so well. He won’t have her in the dark. Always, always he loves her in the glow of a lamp.

“This is over,” she says, her jaw set.

“Is it?” He doesn’t seem worried, lacing fingers behind his head, posturing just so. “You said the same thing last night. And the night before.”

“I hate you.”

His lips move as if to smile. Like he is trying to remember how. “You said that, too,”

She picks up her unlit lightsaber from the floor, tucks it in her belt. Looks at him again.

“Say my name, Rey,” he says, and she nearly growls in frustration. 

She doesn’t know it. At these moments, baiting her and looking at her like she belongs on her back beneath him, he is Kylo Ren. When she _is_ on her back beneath him, when his lips graze so gently over her eyelids when she’s nearly _there,_ when he begs her to rise to him with his body and his thoughts, he is Ben Solo.

In the silence where she stands now, he is nobody, and the greatest somebody, all at once. 

It’s over, every night. She tells him so, tells him she won’t be back. And the next night, standing before him again, she kisses him–hoping to coax understanding from him through touch alone. And after, repeating her mantra: _This is over. It’s over._

_“_ I don’t know your name,” she says again.

He nods, nonplussed. “You’ll learn it. One of these nights.”

She hurries down the hall toward the pilots’ wing of the base, his words ringing after her. She always thinks it is over, that she is done, that the last time was time enough.

But she wants desperately to know his name.


	2. In which Kylo Ren admits that he would like Rey to try something new.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tumblr prompt:** Can we please talk about sub!Ren more often because this is literally the best thing I've seen in the entire world?
> 
>  
> 
> **Rated T.**

The air is still around the couple as they sit huddled close in the crowded bunk. Their fingers are loosely laced on Rey’s lap as Kylo Ren stares hard at the ground, absently plucking at the tips of Rey’s fingers with his free hand. Rey glances around the small room, not sure where to focus her gaze.

After another long moment, she clears her throat. “Y–you would like me to do…what?”

Ren’s plucking at her fingers falters and he tries to pull his hand from hers. She grips him tightly and his mouth twitches in the smallest relief that she is not completely disgusted by him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, his tone soft and almost regretful. “I had only thought…” Again he fidgets with the tips of her fingers,  sounding suddenly so nervous and insecure. “I don’t want to do anything with which you aren’t comfortable.”

Rey shakes her head and glances at the still man beside her. The look of anxiousness that curls his brow sends a flush across her cheeks and she looks away again. “It’s not that I’m not…comfortable with the idea. It’s just–I wouldn’t know how–”

Ren nods quickly, swallowing a hard lump in his throat. “Think nothing more of it.” He stands, dropping her hand and smoothing the front of his dark tunic. Another tight nod, to no one in particular, and he crosses to the door.

“Ren.” 

Her small voice stops him and he sighs at the almost fear there. “Rey, it’s–”

He hears her standing from the bunk with the rustle of fabric. 

“Kylo Ren,” she says again, her voice much more solid. It sends a wicked thrill up his spine and halts his words in his throat.

When he turns back to her, he sees that she has draped his heavy dark cloak over her shoulders, the large hood shadowing her eyes. His mouth goes dry. She is standing as tall as she can muster and the pooling of the extra foot of fabric around her small bare feet ignites something hot and liquid at the pit of his stomach.

She tips up her chin and says, very slowly, “Did I say you could leave?”

He stumbles the few feet toward her, his heart racing at her tone, at her posture, at her dominance. He falls heavily to his knees in front of her, his face shining in greatest adoration as he looks up at her from the floor. He grips the fabric of his own robe worn by another and simply waits for what she would have him do next.

Rey twists the smallest of cruel smiles before laying a hand along his cheek.

“Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on my tumblr is you'd like to [submit a prompt](http://www.reylotrashcompactor.tumblr.com)! I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!


	3. In which Kylo Ren utters something Rey wasn’t meant to hear.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tumblr prompt:** Things you said that I wasn't meant to hear. 
> 
> **Rated T.**

It was like a whisper on the wind, though with the world crumbling beneath her feet and the crashing of falling trees, there was no way she could have heard a whisper. But she had heard it, all the same.  
  
 _End this,_ it said again, and this time she recognized the voice. It wasn’t hers, it was _his._ This monster in the snow, this killer of Han Solo, this trickster who delved into her mind only to witness her loneliness—it was his voice. He was oozing cauterized blood clots from the wound she’d served him only breaths before, panting in pain. He sat up, almost presenting his chest for the blow, and he urged her again.

_End this!_

How could she hear him? The thought only occurred to her briefly as she got another look at his ruined face. There was pain there, of course. But it was pain deeper than a saber wound, deeper than a bowcaster blast. This was pain soaked in heart’s blood, in yearning to be done with the trappings of living.

He wanted her to kill him. He wanted to end.

She considered, took half a step, and stopped at the hopeful relief that spread across his face. She tasted bile at that look, so ready to be done. So wretched with his own self-loathing. She could feel his regret, feel his bone deep grief at what he had done, at what he would have to continue to do if she would not kill him.

She didn’t know how she could feel it, how she could hear him begging her for the mercy of her weapon. But she could.

And she thought, as she backed away and let the opening chasm make the tough decision for her, that if she killed him, if she ended his suffering, she would feel his death, too. Feel the loss of him.

He was right—she was lonely. Afraid. And his presence within her, however new and startling and perfectly pitiful, was more company than she had had for a very long time.

She watched as the distance grew between them as the maw opened wider. She felt his growing anger, his resentment that she hadn’t finished what she started. She felt it as keenly as if she herself had felled Han Solo. But she welcomed it, for whatever reason, and hoped he could feel lighter for her taking some of his pain with her.

He wished for an end, but she found a beginning, and she wanted to see where it led. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on my tumblr is you'd like to [submit a prompt](http://www.reylotrashcompactor.tumblr.com)! I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!


	4. In which Rey is afraid to tell Kylo Ren that she is pregnant.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tumblr prompt:** Could you write a fanfic Rey being pregnant and fearing to tell Kylo?
> 
> **Rated T.**

“I know, you know?”

Rey turned from the scrubbing of her boots. It wasn’t as if the Resistance had protocol on how clean their pilots’ boots had to be, but Rey had found that fastidiousness was one of the few comforts she could cling to even in the most tumultuous of times. Kylo Ren was standing a few feet behind her, looking laughable in the clothes that had been given to him by the Resistance, all browns and beiges. In the absence of his destroyed helmet, he’d taken to wrapping a dark brown scarf multiple times around his neck and draping the end over his head in a poor imitation of his past hood and cowl.

He looked more like one of the water-gathering wives of Jakku than a formidable villain, but Rey wasn’t going to say anything.

“Know what?”

His eyes flicked down to her middle, then back up again.

“I know you’re with child.”

“Stars, Ren!” Rey yanked him over to where she stood with her shoe brush. “Not so loud!” she continued in a hushed whisper.

She looked around to see if anyone had heard, but they seemed to be fairly on their own. Everyone still gave Ren a wide berth after what had happened on Starkiller, no matter how many First Order hideouts he gave up to intelligence. 

“’With child,’ Ren? Seriously?”

“Don’t try to make this about my superior prose, Rey,” he whispered back. “You weren’t going to tell me.”

“Of course I was going to tell you!” She slammed the brush down on the table, causing the few people who _were_ near them to turn their heads. Rey grabbed him by his ridiculous water-wife hood and tugged him unceremoniously under the worktable. “And how did you know, anyway?” Her hand drifted protectively to her middle, a movement Ren watched with some trepidation.

“Our– The…” He chewed his lip, looking around for anything to focus on than Rey’s waist–and not finding much. “It’s Force sensitive.”

Heat flushed Rey’s face as she realized. “It’s… You can sense it?”

His eyes drifted back to her stomach. He couldn’t help being drawn to it. 

“Yes.”

_So that feeling wasn’t just her, then._ She blanched with realization. 

“So, your mother knows? An–and Luke?”

“You’re asking questions to which you already know the answer.”

She nodded dejectedly, trying to not see him staring at her womb.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he demanded in a gruff whisper.

She scoffed. “Are you kidding? You’ve known, apparently! And you seem none too happy about it.”

“I–!” Ren stuttered to a stop. Reached a tentative hand to where hers was clutched. Drew away. “I didn’t think you’d want… My…”

It was silent under the table. Quiet enough that another pilot came up to do a much less thorough job of cleaning his own boots. They both sat, waiting for him to either notice them, or leave. He didn’t notice, or enjoyed the scene too much to care, and cleaned both boots twice before walking away.

“I was afraid to tell you,” she muttered once he’d left.

“Because you don’t trust me.”

She nodded slowly. “Because I don’t trust you.”

He leaned away from her with a grunt. “Nobody trusts me, but that doesn’t make you any less with chi– Any less pregnant.”

“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t.”

She added another hand the the one cupping the slight swell of her belly, trying to keep her breathing regular. She could talk to General Organa now, she supposed. Find out what she needed to know. A tickle of something–sentiment? delight?–nudged at her as she thought about what he’d said. 

_Force sensitive._ Already. She almost smiled at the idea, but didn’t want Ren to see. She’d never had a family, not really, not before Finn and Poe and General Organa. And perhaps Ren, if bickering and passionate making-up counted for anything. But now, it seemed, she was set on making her own. With those friends that were her support and this little flickering _thing_ inside her.

And Ren, the one who helped to create it.

She glanced across at the man under the table with her. He was looking so hard at her stomach it made her uneasy. In the dim light, she couldn’t make out his expression. Dread? Excitement? Disgust?

“What are you going to do?” he asked suddenly, making her jump and knock her head on the underside of the table. He didn’t take his eyes from her clutched hands.

“Keep it, I guess,” she answered as she reached to rub her head. She watched him for a reaction, but he gave none.

_Typical._

“What are _you_ going to do?” she asked back.

He sat still for another moment before reaching over to cover her hand on her middle with one of his own. Rey swore she felt her body grow warmer. Felt that little flicker again.

“Work on earning your trust, I guess,” he murmured in answer. 

She did smile, then. A small thing, and only long enough so that he could see it.

He smiled back, just a moment, before settling back into the usually hard set of his face.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on my tumblr is you'd like to [submit a prompt](http://www.reylotrashcompactor.tumblr.com)! I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!


	5. In which Kylo Ren discovers the downside of a Force bond a la menstrual cramps.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tumblr prompt:** Exploring the not so wonderful side of the force bond: menstrual pain. Enjoy yourself, Kylo Ren!
> 
> **Rated K+.**
> 
> (Also, this was a personal favorite of mine. I hope you enjoy.)

Rey let out a groaning sigh as she collapsed back against the door to her quarters. Flight drill days were long enough, but this particular day felt like it had lasted a week. Every inch of her ached, and parts of her downright throbbed. All she wanted now was to change into clothes much more forgiving of her current fatigue and curl up with a trashy story on her holopad.

She neatly stowed her shoes and wandered to her small bedroom. Baggy clothes acquired, she went to the hutch in her small ‘fresher for her handy, if not somewhat antiquated, hot water bottle. It wasn’t under the shallow sink where she was sure she had left it. She shrugged, more than a little miffed, thinking that perhaps Finn had borrowed it.

She went next to the small kitchenette to dig out her small horde of sweets, particularly the harza cake she had set aside specifically for this week. When she opened the small cabinet, however, she found that it was mostly barren, save a few almost comical crumbs.

Untempered rage flared through her in a fiery blast so potent that she wasn’t entirely surprised to find her saber lit and ready in her hand.

She followed the blue of the flame out of the kitchenette into the modest sitting room and let out a shriek of frustration. Huddled into the corner of the small couch was Kylo Ren, bundled unceremoniously head to foot in all the blankets that Rey owned. Using one hand to press her hot water bottle into his lower abdomen, he was using the other to push the last bite of her harza cake into his mouth.

“Are you serious right now, Ren?” she bellowed, not extinguishing her saber.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut against the echoing of her voice in the tiny room.

“Not so loud, girl. You have no idea how awful I feel today.” He burrowed further into the blanket nest as he chewed slowly on her last crumbs of comfort.

“Oh, I think I do!” she said, taking a step into the room.

He cracked open his eyes at the tone of her voice, and seemed to really notice her then. His eyes grew wide. “Why do you have your saber lit? Is something the matter?”

She clicked off the saber with a _whump_ and plopped onto the couch beside him. She yanked the hot water bottle from his middle and pressed it into her own before beginning to tug the blankets from him.

“Move over, you miserable Hutt.”

He untucked the blankets from around himself and attempted to share what he thought was a diplomatic amount. She yanked more over onto her.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

She looked over at him, noticing her holopad laying on his chest. She grabbed that, too, and snorted at the lewd story he’d chosen.

“Don’t you know?” she clipped in answer.

Looking overtly peeved, he shook his head. “Know what?”

Rey sighed. “Where does it hurt?”

“All over,” Ren groaned pitifully. “But especially–”

“Here?” Rey asked with an expert jab to his gut.

He moaned again, then, as realization hit, his moan pitched up into a sound of understanding.

“I hadn’t realized…”

“Yeah, well, I wish you had realized before you ate my last slice of cake.”

“Oh!” He shifted, pointedly taking back some of the shared blankets. “There’s still one piece left.” He brought up a plate from the floor beside the couch with one final, and thankfully generous, slice of cake.

“Give it.”

As Rey slowly savored the sweet, a wrenching cramp overtook her lower back and abdomen. She and Ren groaned in unison, and he snatched back the hot water bottle.

“Is it always this miserable?” he asked as he rucked a blanket up over his head in a pitiful imitation of a hood. Rey swallowed the last bite of cake and pulled up the blanket over her head as well.

“Pretty much.” Much less grouchy now that her sweet craving had been tended to, she curled into Ren’s side.

“And it’s every month?”

She turned back to the beginning of the seedy story Ren had chosen on the holopad. “Yeah.”

“Is there any way to stop it?” he asked, reading over her shoulder.

“Not without you becoming a dad, and since you won’t even admit to your mother that you sleep here, I’m guessing that you don’t want to go down the ‘Gran Organa’ route.”

Ren laid soft lips to her temple as another cramp knotted at the base of his spine. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

Rey turned bewildered eyes to him, and he rushed to explain.

“N-not so that we could… Halt your cycle—”

Rey relaxed somewhat.

“It’s just probably time I tell her why I’m back. What this thing is between us and how we can use it against Snoke.”

Rey felt suddenly like crying, but figured were it another time of the month she wouldn’t be so inclined.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You’re pretty hormonal right now. You shouldn’t make any rash decisions when you’re in this state.”

He kissed her full on the mouth, biting down on her bottom lip in emphasis. “I’m sure, wicked girl.”

Another tight cramp passed between them.

“After all,” he hissed. “We might as well make all of this worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on my tumblr is you'd like to [submit a prompt](http://www.reylotrashcompactor.tumblr.com)! I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!


	6. In which Kylo Ren fucking loves that Rey has body hair.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Spite fic!! Anonymous asked:** so your headcanon is that Rey has armpit and leg hair but you have her be all smooth and silky in your sexy fics with Kylo. Hmmmm. ::insert hypocrites everywhere gif::
> 
> _So I decided to write a micro fic in which my headcanon that Rey has body hair plays a very integral part! Let’s throw in some bisexual!Ren into the mix, too, cause I can._
> 
> **Rated M.**

She is wild.

It is the only way he can describe her when they are together like this. She is open, she is honest, she hides nothing from him.

Kylo Ren has had encounters before, has shared these short intimacies with both men and women, and always they keep something from him. People, as people, hold something back. 

But Rey, _oh, Rey._  She tells the truth. In every movement of her body, every hitch of her breath, she is laid bare. 

_This is how a body that knew only the love of a desert looks. These are the freckles that desert’s sun gave me. These ribs that show through my back are the work of a hungry life._

He runs large hands over that honest body, eager to discover its every sincerity. His long fingers can circle her wrists and travel, without breaking that loose grip, all the way to her underarms— _because she lived a life that couldn’t spare an ounce of nourishment for something so luxurious as body fat, as anything more than the sparest of fibrous muscle._  His fingers stroke the long silk of the hair she has there— _because she had no one to tell her that the ways of a woman’s body might not bend to the ways of a society built on more than starship salvage._

Even most men that Ren had known had removed that hair from their underarms for reasons that no one completely understood. Because they should. Because their body doesn’t know the things that _they_ know about the world.

But this was Rey’s body. This was all that she had in the long hot of the desert, and who was _she_ to think that, _if it managed to keep living_ , it should look any different for the sake of vanity.

When she wraps those long, strong legs around him, also dusted with the softness of hair that never knew removal, never knew shame, he can feel his heart crumbling for this girl who doesn’t know the way of people like he does. 

She knows basest survival. She knows the worth of yourself, unto yourself.

He knows appearances. He knows machinations, politics, coercion. He knows the shame that would shutter him behind a mask so no one could see the vestiges of his father’s strong features. 

When she bows into him like this, welcoming his eyes on every part of her, he finds that pull for honesty. That truth that he is weary of denying the Light that seeks to take root in him. And if Rey is on the other side, then perhaps leaving the appearances, the mechanizations, the _lies_ of the Dark behind is worth the surrender.

And as his body shudders into hers, she murmurs another truth across his skin.

_This isn’t you, Ben. Come back._

And he trusts her simple truth, as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on my tumblr is you'd like to [submit a prompt](http://www.reylotrashcompactor.tumblr.com)! I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!


	7. In which Kylo Ren gets a little bit Genghis Khan.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song [Genghis Khan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XCuj-foSQI) by Miike Snow, featuring a very jealous Kylo Ren.
> 
> **Rated M.**

“I saw you with Dameron today.” **  
**

Rey was pulling on her shirt at the foot of the bed. Ren watched from his sated recline against the pillows as her back muscles tensed at his words. They were quickly covered by the linen fabric of her shirt.

“How?” She turned toward him, tossing him his prisoner’s uniform, which he pointedly ignored. She huffed and roughly tugged her mussed hair into a high knot on her head.

_Stars, she looked good freshly bedded._

“Even prison cells have windows, pet.” He jerked his chin over his shoulder at the small, high window behind him.

“You were spying on me?” She was on her feet now, tugging on her leggings in angry jerks. Ren was sorry to see those mile-long legs go.

“It could hardly be called spying if you happen to walk past the one square foot of the outside world I am privy to.”

She was reaching for her boots, now. She missed a large section of her hair in the back, and it hung faintly curled with sweat at the nape of her neck. She looked downright obscene in her askew clothes and flushed cheeks. He didn’t want her to go.

“It seems a bit more like spying when even a lunk like you would probably have to stand on the bed to see out that window.”

Ren was silent for a moment before answering. “I heard your voice. I…wanted to see you. In the daylight.”

She didn’t answer him and instead plopped down on the floor to tie her laces. He felt suddenly foolish at his ridiculous confession—no matter how true it was—and at Rey’s apparent dismissal of it.

“So. Dameron, is it?” he asked, sitting up a little taller in bed. He was bare to the waist, covered only by the crumpled sheets. “A little cliche, don’t you think, to bed down with the galaxy’s greatest pilot when you’re not even through academy?”

“You’re a shit,” she muttered, angrily switching to the other shoe. “And I’m not in academy. I’m just filling in some holes where the simulators were lacking.”

“Point stands.”

“Why do you care?”

Ren laced his fingers behind his head, posturing just so in case she decided to finally look at him. “I don’t,” he lied.

“It sounds like you do.” She stood from the floor, sweeping hands over her clothes to try to ease any wrinkles. It wasn’t working; she still looked as if she’d been thoroughly fucked.

Something about this—her efforts to hide whatever evidence she could of her time with him, that some other man might know just how alluring she looked after being seen to properly, might have the pleasure of not just fucking her, but finding sleep next to her—twisted like a dagger in his gut. He dropped his hands and got out of the bed, standing as tall as his formidable frame would let him.

“Where do you sleep?” His voice was deeper than he intended, more brittle.

Her attention snapped to him and she flushed. “Put some clothes on.”

“Where do you sleep?” he asked again, no less dark.

“You have no right to that information.”

He took a step toward her. “I know, but I want it all the same.”

Used to him, perhaps, she stood her ground, squared her shoulders. _Fuck, he wanted her._

“Why do you care?”

He let his eyes linger on her in a way he hoped made it very evident. He saw the slight flutter of her throat as she tried to discreetly gulp, and stretched a small smile. “You know why.”

She did step away from him then, patting her body then searching the floor as if she dropped something. He spotted the security clearance badge before she did and discreetly kicked it under the bed.

She kept searching, growing frustrated. “Actually, I don’t. What? Do you want to be my boyfriend?” She stood up then, glaring at him with clenched fists. “Do you want to be my boyfriend who’s in prison?”

Ren laughed. “Stars, you’re young. Can you hear yourself? ‘Boyfriend?’ Honestly.”

Her eyes were on the floor again as she continued to look for the badge. “Then what do you want?” Her voice was sharp with annoyance.

“I want to know where you sleep!”

She whirled on him. “In my own bed! Alone!” She stalked over to him and jabbed a finger hard in the middle of his chest. “You need a bigger window, you kriffing buckethead. Then you might see that Poe Dameron is with Finn, not with me. Not by a longshot.”

Her eyes were sharp on his, her hair almost completely fallen from the knot she had thrown it into. _She looked good enough to eat._

He closed his hand around hers that she had planted accusingly on his sternum. “Come back to bed,” he growled.

“What?”

He tugged her arm. “I spoke clearly enough.”

She paused only a moment, giving his naked body a cursory glance, before tugging her clothes back off. He helped, none too gently, and threw her purposefully back onto the cot. He followed after, kissing her deep into the thin mattress.

“You’re mine, Rey,” he moaned against her cheek. “I won’t share you.”

“Shut up,” she answered, her breath hitching as he moved above her. “You talk too much.”

She kissed him hungrily, urging him with her body. He broke away with a groan.

“I’m—” he rocked into her, his jaw clenched at the too right feel of her. “I’m yours, too,” he whispered into her fallen hair. He was too chagrined to look at her as he admitted this, to tell her that even this confession wasn’t enough to convey what he felt about her. How much she meant to him, and how he wished he could love her in the daylight, not just in his cell when she decided to abuse her security clearances.  

She smiled a smile that he didn’t see, and arched into the press of him. Into the only truth of his she believed.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on my tumblr is you'd like to [submit a prompt](http://www.reylotrashcompactor.tumblr.com)! I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!


	8. In which Rey says his name.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II of the drabble "In which Rey won't say his name," which is the first chapter of this drabble collection. Let me know what you think!
> 
> **Rated E.**

“Say it.”

He bites down hard, _too hard_ , on her inner thigh and she cries out. An inelegant, unintelligible warble of sound. He swipes his tongue through her sex, through the hot and the wet, following that sharp pain with pleasure so close in nature that she makes the same sound again. No words, though a plea all the same. Her fingers trip over each other as she brutally clutches at his hair, nearly pulling the knuckles out of joint.

“N-no,” she pants, and he punishes her for it, latching hard onto that part of her that is so sensitive, so acutely tuned to nothing but _reaction_ that she tries to twist away from the hard pressure of his mouth. He grips her with those hands so large that his thumbs can hook into the dip of her hipbones while his fingers nearly lace on her spine and holds her in place. He sucks on her again, hard and obscenely loud, and she can hear the lewd wet of his swallowing her arousal.

He releases her, finally, finally, and speaks against the oversensitive folds of flesh, his low voice vibrating against her, giving her little respite from _feeling._

“Say it!”

She twists beneath him again, fighting against those strong, damnable hands, and he roughly jerks her back into place beneath him.

“Say it or I’ll never let you come.”

She whines, a mewling keen that is so embarrassing that she is sure that she hates this man above her, so slick with how she wants him that she can see the sheen of it on his full lips.

“B-bastard.”

He chuckles and, _stars,_ the dark sound somehow makes her wetter, makes her want even more. “You have no idea, Rey.”

He yanks her down beneath him, so rough and quick that the hard scratch of his prison issued sheets burn her bare back. He’s inside her in seconds, a full and deep stretch and her voice breaks on the next moan he wrenches from her.

And he’s still.

She’s strong, stronger than she has any right to be, but she can’t make a move against his durasteel grip. She can’t so much as rock her hips to gain the slightest ounce of friction, and she’s _so close._

“Say it. Say my name.” His voice is as hard as his body, as strong as his hands. And his eyes, they are darker than any of the atrocities with which he’s burdened the galaxy. “Tell me who I am. Who is fucking you, Rey?”

There’s tears in her eyes and she blinks them away. Hating him in this moment, yet needing him so dearly. “Right now?” She swallows. Her voice is nearly gone. He wants his name on her lips, but he wasted her voice on all the other pains he inflicted. Now she has little more than a croak left. “Kylo Ren.”

His eyes slide shut, reeling back into his head as he languidly rolls his neck. Basking, the ass, in the sound of her surrender to his demands. When he opens them again, when he looks down at her, his pleasure in this victory is a tactile thing between them. Such perverse pride in the dark naming of him. He releases a hand from her hip and digs the heel of it into the soft flesh just above her pubic bone.

When he rocks into her, the pressure of his hand combined with the weight of his desire has her climbing the summit to release more quickly than she thought she was capable.

He’s surrendering to her, as well, giving her every ounce of the pleasure he held just beyond her reach. His eyes roam over her, taking in her movements, and he matches this. Rocking into her slower, more deeply. What she needs, what she wants.

“And now?” he whispers, sending a spark up her spine that has her arching into him.

“Oh, _Ben._ ”

He sighs, almost smiling, almost crying and continues to move within her just right, just exactly right. “Again.”

“Ben,” she says. She can’t say it enough, now that she has. It’s softer than her earlier cries of anguish, warmer. It hums in her throat and soothes the pain there. “ _Stars_ , Ben.”

She shatters then, her tongue still pressing up into the end of his name and she hums the sound along the languid waves of her release. She is only vaguely aware of his own climax, a sharp staccato in the fuzzy haze rolling over her. “Ben,” she whispers again, and it seems to make him come all over again.

He collapses on her, his grip on her making him seem all the more heavy. He’s crying she realizes, and she thinks that tonight, just tonight, she might risk sleeping here with him.

Just to see if she’ll wake up to Ben in the morning.

 


	9. In which Rey has a crush and has no idea what to do about it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: Rey having a huge crush on redeemed Ben Solo and not knowing how to handle it, but that's okay because he knows exactly what to do....
> 
> Rated T for suggestiveness.

“You like me.” He smiled more now that he was Ben again. They were slow to come for others, but with her, there always seemed to be a grin waiting at the corner of his mouth. His teeth were crooked. He was very, very handsome.

“I don’t.” She did, but she couldn’t say so. His face creased differently on one side of his face than the other because of the scar she’d given him. That’s not a past you share with someone that you like. And even so, she didn’t know what the hell to do about it.

“It’s okay, you know?” He circled lazily around her, pressed into her back. Her eyes darted around the room to see if any of the others listening to the briefing saw, but Poe held their attention. He ducked and pressed his lips to her ear. “I like you, too.”

Perhaps he was only Ben Solo in name, because the blackness of his words almost sounded like they were filtered through a mask. She shivered, but found herself pressing back into him.

This was crazy.

“This is crazy.”

He licked the skin behind her ear and she had to bite back a noise she didn’t know she was able to make. She crossed her arms over her chest and squeezed tight, hoping to slow her heart rate and dispel the goosebumps prickling over her skin.

“Want to play hooky?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your best behavior?” Her whisper was sharp, but her hands loosened from around her chest. She dropped a hand down and squeezed his thigh before she could think better of it.

 _That was stupid._ She didn’t know why she did that. She pulled her hand away but he caught it, pressing it again to his thigh. Squeezed her hand on him and made her breath catch.

“You _like_ me. Don’t lie to me.”

“Stop it, Ben.”

He hissed in a breath of air as the room started to empty. Apparently Poe had finished. “Oh, I like it when you say my name.”

“Ben, please, I–”

She couldn’t turn to face him and his hand was still on hers which was still on his thigh and she didn’t know what to _do._

 _“_ Hey, hey.” He walked around her, took her hands in his. They were alone in the room, but she still looked anywhere but at him. He caught her chin in his fingers and lifted her face to his. “I like you, too, remember? I thought that was pretty damn obvious at this point.”

She was afraid he would kiss her, and then she would really look like an idiot. But he let her chin go and stepped back.

“Come to my room later. You know where it is.”

She blushed. She did, though she’d never been inside. 

He smiled at her again, that easy, just-for-you crooked toothed smile.

“I’ll show you the ropes, Rey. Just you and me.”

She swallowed but nodded, and he did kiss her then. One big step into her and one hand was on the back of her head and the other was pressing her into him at the small of her back and his mouth tasted like _something,_ like fruit and he was _warm_. She put her hands on his hips because she didn’t know where else they might go and he smiled, _again and always_ , against her mouth.

“You like me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to let me know what you think! I love hearing from you guys, and I do try to respond to every comment. Eventually.


	10. In which Kylo Ren takes it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: "you want that lightsaber you'll have to take it from me"
> 
> Rated high T, low M for sexy things.

She knew what he wanted. He hadn’t exactly been coy about it.

_That lightsaber. It belongs to me._

But she didn’t think that he would still try for it, even now after being laid so low as a prisoner of war. The unlit hilt twitched from time to time on her metal bedside table, and she could feel the change of energy in her rooms when he tried to call for it.

Did he think it would be that easy? That no one in the Resistance base would think twice of an unlit saber whizzing down the hallways toward the prison block? Master Luke gave his nephew too much credit; Kylo Ren was obviously an idiot.

It was the hard, rhythmic knocking of metal on metal as it tapped on her headboard at an unholy hour that broke her. She snatched the hilt from the small table and tucked it into the waistband of her leggings. She threw on a loose-fitting tunic and marched barefoot down toward his prison cell. The saber would lurch at random intervals, more and more insistent and stronger the closer she got. 

When she finally made it to his cell–the last at the end of the hall and the only one occupied on this wing, _for good reason–_ she pulled the hilt from her waistband and clanged it mightily on the metal bars. 

He shot up out of bed and even in the dim light, she could see he was angry.

“Don’t pretend like you were sleeping. I’m not stupid.”

He stalked over to her, shirtless and _so big._ She forgot how massive he was until she was standing flatfooted before him. She felt hot all of a sudden, aware that they were both barely dressed and that there was no one around to hear them. And his bed, small as it was, was _right there._

“What are you talking about, scavenger?” His voice was deep and graveled and his hair was mussed. He certainly looked and sounded like he’d been sleeping. His dark eyes were hard on her, flicking over her face before traveling lower. Her tunic had fallen off her shoulder and he was staring boldly at the exposed skin.

“I know you have been trying to call this to you,” she spat, waving the hilt before him, trying to will away the warmth his wandering eyes kindled in her. 

He reached through the bars and for a moment she thought he meant to rip the saber from her hands. But he instead gently shoved her in the chest, sending her a few steps back. She opened her mouth to protest, but he’d already turned from her and was slouching back into his narrow bed. “Go back to bed, girl. You’re dreaming things.”

She swiped her clearance card on the door of his cell and yanked it open. He didn’t even turn to face her when she pulled it noisily closed behind her. “So someone else has been trying to summon Darth Vader’s lightsaber from my bedroom?”

“That or you just really wanted to see me,” he mumbled from within his pillow.

Rey snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She had turned back to the door of his cell when she heard the bed creak. There was a mighty tug at the saber in her hand and she whirled to face him. He was right on top of her and she fell painfully into the bars at her back. “If you want this lightsaber, Kylo Ren, you’re going to have to take it from me.”

His hand wrapped around hers and he tried to physically rip it from her grip. She pulled away from him, still caught against the bars, and flung her hand over her head and back through the bars. She didn’t really know what her plan was. She was tall, but he was so much taller, and he reached easily over her head, through the bars, and plucked the thing from her hand.

This was stupid. This is exactly, _exactly_ what he had wanted and she fell for it like a fool. She’d let nights of restless sleep cloud her judgement and had marched right into the animal’s cage and now, he was armed.

He grabbed onto the bars behind her and pulled, pressing himself flush against her. The business end of the saber jutted coldly into the underside of her jaw and he tipped her head roughly back.

All that was left was for him to ignite it, and she was done. Skewered. 

She closed her eyes in preparation for her death and so didn’t see the kiss coming. When he crushed his lips against hers, she gasped aloud. He took this opportunity to delve his tongue into her mouth, hot and insistent. She hadn’t realized she’d been gripping the bars behind her until he made to tug her against him and toward his bed. She let go immediately, her fingers creaking, and let him throw her like a rag doll into his hard little bunk. 

She was embarrassed to admit that her fingers went for the waistband of his sleep pants first and the hand that held her weapon second. When her reaching fingers found his calloused palm, his hand was empty and her heart lurched. He pulled his hand away and roughly pressed his fingers into her cheek, turning her head toward the hall and pressing her into his pillow. 

As he set sharp teeth to her neck, sucking and biting and, Maker help her, _kissing,_ she saw the saber still unlit and laying far beyond the bars on the floor of the hallway. It would be so easy for either one of them to summon it to them, but as Kylo Ren’s mouth and hands worked lower and lower, shoving aside clothing and settling between her unabashedly spread thighs, Rey found that she didn’t much care.

He stopped pressing her into the pillow, content that she’d seen what she needed to see, and she turned into him, pulling him down on top of her and kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to let me know what you thought! I appreciate any and all feedback!


	11. In which Rey wants the light on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: "I want the lights on."
> 
> Rated M for sexual content.

“I want the lights on.”

Kylo froze. The girl, _Rey_ , had had him on her ship for weeks now. Not quite ready to turn him over to the Resistance, or not quite ready to not have him all to herself. He wasn’t sure which it was, and he really, really didn’t care.

They’d slept apart only the first two nights after she captured him, but something, not just the Force, pulled them together. She didn’t keep him bound, but he didn’t try to escape or overpower her. He didn’t understand either part of this. She’d been pounding on the console of her cobbled together piece of junk ship that had been issued to her by the broke Resistance, willing it to make the jump into hyperdrive. It wasn’t working and he had slowly approached her. “Can I help?”

She’d turned from the faulty thing, buried her hands in his hair and yanked him down on top of her in the pilot seat.

And now here they were. He’d crawled into her bed every night, because that seemed right, and he’d reach over her head and turn out the light and _let her._ Whatever she wanted. She’d use him up then use herself up on him. And he loved it. He loved every second her hands were on him, telling him what to do and how to do it. She knew how to pilot anything, and that included him.

But tonight she stopped his reaching hand. “I want the lights on.”

Kylo didn’t want that. His mask lay abandoned in some corner of the ship and that was fine enough. Rey was safe in the waking hours when she bossed him around the ship or jerked him down into a rough kiss. But at night, when they shared her bed and she fucked him until he couldn’t think—he didn’t want her to see him then.

“I’d rather–”

“Keep them on,” she said, and he paused. She softened just a bit, and she was such a hard girl. “Please. I’d like to see you tonight.”

He pulled his reaching hand away and nodded, though he was absolutely terrified. 

“I won’t hurt you, Kylo. I just want to see your face.”

He didn’t have words for that so he flopped onto his back in silence. She inched down his body, rucking up clothes where she wanted and kissing the skin underneath. She’d dart her eyes up to catch his reactions and he had to fight to not look away. There was a reason he wore a mask, and if she saw, if she looked, she’d _know._

But there wasn’t much hiding it when she took him into her mouth. When she sucked him senseless and he’d sobbed out her name, making her short name long and multi-tonal. He was laid bare when she tugged off her underwear and had her absolute fill of him. She rode him like she wanted it to hurt, like she always did, and she watched his face every second. He came first, of course he did, and she watched it, drank it in.

She only closed her eyes when her release rocked her body, though it seemed more intimate this way. Him getting to see her, for the first time. Losing that tight control she had on him for a second as she screamed.

Then she opened her eyes. And she knew. Of course she knew. He could barely hide how much he loved her when she was doing something so simple as pulling back her hair. But now, on top of him and half naked, not even his mask could hide what he felt.

“Are you going to take me to the Resistance now?” he asked, his voice a broken thing. He was still inside her and he felt her body clench around him.

Possessive.

“No,” she said, bending low and kissing his chest. She looked up at him, her mouth still on his skin, her hair in her eyes. “No, not yet, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment and let me know what you think. I appreciate any and all feedback! Find me on tumblr under the same name, reylotrashcompactor, to submit a drabble prompt if you so desire. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on my tumblr is you'd like to [submit a prompt](http://www.reylotrashcompactor.tumblr.com)! I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!


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